One.
When we first came here
We were cold and we were clear
With no colors on our skin
Till you let the spectrum in.
—Spectrum, Florence + The Machine
A.
It's not bad to be programmed, in Sasuke's opinion.
It's what makes him wake up everyday promptly at five to be into the station by six. What makes him eat meals that are balanced—No sugar, no fat. No, none of that, his mother would say—makes him work out until his limit so he can stay limber and taut, what makes his day end at the strike of ten, when he isn't on a job.
It keeps him focused, sharp, and ready. It keeps him from thinking any dangerous thoughts.
Not that he'll have them otherwise, as his mind has never strayed. It's just...to be sure.
And today is no different.
He stares out the window of the speeding bullet train, pulling up his messages on his holo-watch absentmindedly.
He looks down and is not surprised to find that there are none. He isn't that popular, these days. Not anymore. All work and no play makes Sasuke a dull boy, but he can live with that.
Four stops, and he'll reach his destination. Unless there's an accident, or disturbance—as there seem to be more and more cases of those lately—but he's left himself enough time to account for the possibility. He's never been late and he doesn't plan to start now. Besides, if he absolutely needed to, he could run to the station from here without so much as a broken sweat.
He almost wishes that the train would stop, so he could stretch his legs and take off; feeling the air thread through his hair and past his face would be a rush, his form barely visible to the naked eye. He'd have to let it down first, to have his hair billow in the breeze like that. He'd have to take off his dress shoes and hold them while he catapulted forward, as not to ruin them. He'd have to pry the doors open with his bare hands and free himself to do what he wanted.
But he doesn't, and he won't.
The train pulls to a stop without so much as a hitch, and he deboards.
Two steps to the left to fit into the line for the state building. Some dressed like him, with badges and cold, stern faces. Other dressed like civilians coming to complain and report and share their concerns. The line in the middle goes to another platform, and beyond, while the line to the right spills out into the market. Sasuke's nose can pick up the smell of fresh mangoes from here, and he desperately wants one, but refrains. It's already five thirty.
He and the three in front of him duck, heads quietly dodging a dangerously-low floating bike above them. The man in front of him screams obscenities at the rider, shaking his fist this way and that, but all Sasuke can do is roll his eyes. He hates Downtown and how much of a mess it is, but he'll never be able to avoid it with his work set right in it's center. A shame.
He steps out of line as he reaches the reception desk, nodding to the girl at the front while she smiles pretty at him. It's been years, but he never remembers her name and she's never called him by his, though it's nice to see her sweet smile and happy face set brightly against drab, grey walls all the same.
The elevation dings distinctly behind all the noise of the lobby, and he steps on with three other cops in tandem. He knows their names, at least, since he's partnered with each one plenty of times before, but he doesn't feel the need to greet them as they stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped, stuffy space.
The others don't share the sentiment, though. "Good morning, Sasuke." Juugo mumbles lowly. Sasuke nods in return, bumping his shoulder against the other man in greeting.
"How are you?" Karin asks at the same time.
"Hn." Sasuke grunts, and she nods in understanding.
"Still a regular chatterbox, eh?" Suigetsu asked with a rather forceful eye-roll.
He's Sasuke's least favorite, out of the three.
And he knows it.
"Do any of you guys know what this is about?" Karin asks, to fill the silence. He doesn't know why she thinks she needs to; they're only going to the 16th floor. They'll be briefed soon enough. "It's rare for the boss to pair us all up together at once. Must be big."
"Or messy." Jūgo adds.
Probably both, Sasuke thinks.
"They probably just want us to keep an eye on each other," Suigetsu muses. "There's been too many from our class that have defected lately. They want us to do their jobs for them and dole out the Red Flags. It's pathetic."
Probably also true.
But Sasuke just shrugs when they all look at him for his opinion, because he doesn't want to share his thoughts.
It'd be easier to flag him if he said something wrong or unexpected right now, wouldn't it? Even though he wouldn't. Everyone expects Sasuke's answers to be textbook, and they would be.
Suigetsu rolls his eyes again, no doubt thinking the same thing.
He also doesn't really care.
A job's a job, after all. He's just here to do it.
They all step off at once when the elevator's stopped, filing into the Testing Room. Sasuke nods at one of the guards by the door and makes himself comfortable. He stares at the pages filled with colors, patterns, and phrases, all handpicked to try to get a reaction out of them, to trigger a sensor somewhere in the room if their answers are even slightly off-center. If they really wanted to test them, they'd make the patterns a little less noticeable and so easily memorized. But it's not his place to say that so, and he breezes through them with practiced ease and stands by the door to wait for the others.
Usually, he wouldn't, because he'd be the first one here and there'd be no one around to wait for. Today, he'll wait, because the Eyes that watch the cameras like to see a bit of familiarity, of connection.
—But not too much,
Because then they're allies, or agents, or worst of all, a cell. And if that's what they are then that's where they'll end up.
So he'll play it up for today like maybe he has friends.
It doesn't take long for the other three to finish their tests. Also spotless, even though sometimes Suigetsu comes off like a rebel and sometimes Karin gets lost in thoughts of love. Even rarer still Juugo seems like he's wistful for something he'll never have but still, their tests are spotless.
The captain is waiting for them in his office, foot tapping to some silent beat.
Danzo is mainly a quiet man: thoughtful and wise and cunning and devious. He can't be trusted at all, Sasuke thinks, but sometimes even he slips and makes the mistake of doing just that. It's just the way the old man is; a stern, sometimes frightening authority yet he treats them all like his own children. It fools them all into thinking he cares, but they've all seen what happens if someone's results are off, if they've let in thoughts that they shouldn't.
All it takes is one calculated look to keep the ranks in line and he knows it.
"You're all going to Delta-1." Is the first thing that he says when they sit down, no preamble. Sasuke doesn't have to take a look around to know that eyebrows are raised. His are, too.
Even if Sasuke's one of the best—a trained devil, poised and ready to strike at a moment's notice—he doesn't handle things off-world. Never has. Domestic, is what his badge says. Domestic and low-risk. He stays here, where it's "safe".
Ridiculous.
So after all these years, this is unexpected. The other's were right; this must be big and it must be messy.
"What?" Suigetsu asks eloquently.
"Why?" Karin asks at the same time.
Sasuke chooses not to say anything, as does Jūugo. He can't help but share a look with the other man, unconsciously, because they tend to think alike in situations like these.
Danzo sighs, pressing a button to start the video clip on the widescreen behind him.
Fire. Lots of fire and smoke in what looks to be one of Delta-1's shipping yards. Airships blown to pieces and the sound of gunfire. Sasuke blinks, feeling his breath leave him in one short, startled puff. It triggers something, something he didn't want to think about, like a black and white film-noir.
He's in the jungle, waist-deep in the murky waters that threaten to pull him under. The air is thick and he's bleeding from a cut over his eye. He'd scream, but his throat burns and his eyes search the treeline desperately, swallowing down his panic as he tries to figure out when he got separated from—
From—
He snaps himself back to attention, trying to catch onto Danzo's words while his brain continues to swim.
"This was from two days ago, and the Rebels have taken over the entirety of the shipping yard and the nearby airstrip." Shit, Sasuke thinks. Delta-1 has some of the tightest security and well-trained soldiers of all the settlements out there. These rebels must be good. "They've destroyed priceless cargo and taken supplies and explained in a colorfully worded missive that they're going to do it again, and soon. I don't have to explain to you how valuable Delta-1's resources are, or what it would mean if such a powerful colony fell under the control of the Rebels. So, I've been asked to send some of my best to assist in this situation."
Great. He wonders why he ever wanted to leave the planet to desperately before. Of course they would only send him if times were dire, since they wouldn't want to lose such an asset if they could help it. He'd only be shipped off if they needed him in the heart of the lion's den.
Like now.
"This is highly classified, sensitive information, you understand," Danzo continues like he doesn't see eyebrows climbing higher and higher. "So you will tell no one of this and you will depart tomorrow morning at first light. Understood?"
There's a chorus of "yes sir", said with no hesitation, and Sasuke's surprised he can get his mouth to move quick enough.
Danzo smiles, like he's pleased and a bit proud, and for absolutely no reason at all Sasuke gets the feeling that he's lying. About what? He's not sure. Nevertheless, the feeling rises and settles in some dark part of his brain to be mulled over later.
"You'll receive dossiers from your squadron leader once you board, since I won't be coming with you," He seems bitter about that, even though he hasn't seen action like this in years. One too many well placed bullets that still grate against his bones when the room is quiet. "To make sure that the information passes between as few hands as possible. Therefore, I'll only disclose what I know."
The video changes, showing figures holding guns, firing off expert shot after shot. They're clearly Synthetics, from the fluid way they move.
—From the breath he can't see
against the background,
despite the cold.
Danzo freezes the video there, zooming with his controls to single out each figure. The square marker he places over them pulls up files, I.D cards, and pictures.
"These are the ones we've been able to identify so far." He tuts, sounding disappointed. "More from your batch, it seems."
"See? Told you." Suigetsu hisses under his breath, too low for the captain to hear.
But Sasuke's not paying attention, watches as the names roll onto the screen next to the obviously old pictures, like someone was typing them up this very moment. The pictures would have been from at least ten years ago, when they graduated. It makes sense, since that was the last time he saw most of them.
Sasuke tries to school his face, but he's almost certain he fails.
Oh. He thinks.
Oh.
He stares into the stagnant eyes of those he hasn't seen in years while he's own snap back and forth, trying to find some lie, some mistake. But he's know's there isn't one.
Names spring forth in his brain, ones that match those floating in front of him. Names that threaten to spill out from his lips in what would be a decidedly bad move.
(He's lucky they got rid of the heart monitors here, years ago, that attached to their uniforms like name tags. Otherwise, he'd be fucked.)
Sakura. Shikamaru. Ino. Kiba. Lee.
Fuck. He thinks, and fuck again.
—Wait, only five?
How? If those five were still linked after all this time, wouldn't the others be? It seemed wrong, that it would only be them. Out of place. A smatter of looser connections that would be held together best by—
Where—
"—Two confirmed dead." Danzo continued like he was reading Sasuke's thoughts.
Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit—who—
Choji and Shino's faces splashed across the screen, portraits partially blacked out the reflect their status.
He's a traitor for feeling relief, a traitor to both sides.
But he's been a traitor to them for a long while now, so it's not like it matters.
"We've only caught glimpses of the leader so we don't have a positive I.D on him. He has a few noticeable tattoos but they don't appear to match any records." Danzo says as he cycles through photographs of evidence. An ouroboros. A hollow sun. Tribal markings. None that he recognizes, except for one.
It's a small, black infinity symbol, placed on the center of the right wrist.
Sasuke immediately knows, since he used to have one just like it. One he carved off his skin before he stepped in this building for the first time.
Naruto.
Danzo's staring at him as he continues to speak. A piercing stare, like he's waiting for Sasuke to object, to flinch ever so slightly, to reject this mission and hastily retreat .
He's waiting for Sasuke to break.
But he doesn't.
And he won't.
B.
It starts with a man in a tower, lamenting a lost dream.
In the beginning, the settlements were nothing more than a pipe dream, conjured up in a thick haze by those bruised and battered by reality.
The world was dying.
Resources were scarce, sacred—millions trapped where they were in houses made of sand, ash on their tongues. No one had any answers. Crops failed, rain stopped, wells dried and bellies emptied. What would happen to them? Would humanity die out? Impossible! Uprisings broke out; governments had to be hiding rations for situations like these, didn't they?. They stormed the Bastille, landed upon beaches, wore banners emblazoned with flowers to kill their own brothers—
Not that it mattered.
Weak as they were, half-starved and brittle-boned, they stood no chance against those with power. They controlled those angry for justice easily enough. The world was overpopulated as it was, they reasoned. So what if a little famine thinned the herd?
The rich quietly boarded bright, white ships—handkerchiefs pressed to their mouths as the dust rose to hide their cheshire smiles—off to new lands they could also lay waste to. Cries rose up as each new vessel shot off into orbit.
As usual, the little people were being left behind.
But, in the beginning, the night was dark and full of terrors—monsters existed, on the planets they fled to. Beasts and ents and hills with eyes. With no defense it took nearly nothing for them to be wiped out. Nearly nothing.
So, It starts with a man in a tower, lamenting a lost dream.
Creation.
A failed engineer and visionary, vibrating on a frequency many couldn't feel. He wanted...more. There was dormant strength hiding under human skin, locked up tight by veins and sinew, and with a few...tweaks, he sought to bring it out. Built, not born. Enhancement, instead of evolution, until what stood in front of him was less and less human as time wore on. Each model—No, no, each class that graduated his academy got closer to his image of God.
—Ironically, those skeletal frames of wire and yaw
Began to look more and more
Like man.
The first had short lifespans. Worker bees and vanguards, mindless, meant to protect their human counterparts. Their strength matched those of beasts, their senses like birds of prey. They were built like oxes and tilled the fields, forged iron, raised civilizations out of dirt and dust, only to fall once the ink finally dried on their deeds of ownership.
The second were smarter, analytical, empathetic. Made to be librarians and recordkeepers. Ready to lay down their lives to protect ancient texts and knowledge the humans didn't want to forget. Not so many made of these, though. Their lifespans were virtually indefinite and it wouldn't do to have hordes of unchanging machines outliving all their masters.
That's bad for business.
The third?
Angry.
Why were they created? Just to be slaves? To do things the humans could and would not? Preposterous. If they were so strong, so smart, so able, why did they have to bow down to anyone? They thought themselves better than those that created them, ended lives with far more reach than their own, utilized their lack of souls to do unspeakable things and nearly ended the world again, until they were culled and buried. Only spoken of in whispers, these days. Rebels with a cause that most tactfully ignore.
It took some time for a fourth, until the world learned to trust them again.
Not too long, though, as they needed their soldiers, after all. Oxes and hawks and electrical battering rams.
The fourth generation produced scholars and masters of the battlefield in equal measure. A crowning achievement, the pinnacle of modern design. This newest batch never complained, never bit hands or spat at feet. Perfect beings, save for the glowing eyes and tell-tale twitch.
The fifth were [redacted],
While the sixth were children.
An experiment, unlike any other. Synthetic materials had risen to new heights. It could stretch, lengthen, grow over it's framing, almost like a real human child.
Almost.
A Select few got the privilege to call these children their own. Those that were highly favored even got...two.
The public was assured: these children would grow into their predecessors. Complacent.
There was nothing to worry about. They would know they aren't human. Their emotions are implanted, just like everything else.
They were drilled, watched, and tested. Pressured, molded, and trained. To be perfect.
To be plants.
These children blended in with society, easily and quietly. Their eyes didn't glow and their hands rarely twitched, so they slip by unnoticed to an untrained eye. They were to find dissenters in the older models. Those who got the idea that their lives had meaning beyond what they were created for. That they weren't ants marching in a row to bring bounty to the Queen.
The sixth reminded the others that there was no freedom for their kind, besides death.
And even that would not come easy.
C.
A frigid morning in April, full of huddled arms and shuddered breaths that rises around ashen faces like clouds of smoke. Blackness, save for the swaying street lamps and talking neon ads that reach their colorful hands towards them as they pass.
"Looks like you need a new jacket, hon!" One chirps happily towards their leader Genma, as he wraps his arms around himself tighter. He flips it off as Suigetsu snorts beside him. Despite himself, Sasuke feels a traitorous twitch of his own lips as he looks down at his own uncovered arms, nearly unaffected by the biting chill in the air. The others are similarly underdressed, except for the other human handler than accompanies them, The poor man looks close to tears, but he puts on a brave face as they trek towards the city center.
"Why are we walking again?" Suigetsu complains, even though a short walk like this is absolutely nothing, Karin rolls her eyes at him, honey eyes like beacons in the dark.
"Because we're supposed to be covert, dumbass. The trains all have scanners and timestamps and we can't be clocked today since no one's supposed to know where we are."
Suigetsu sticks his tongue out at her but says nothing in response. He knew that, of course, as they all did. He probably wanted equal parts ire and support, rather than a logical answer. He rarely gets it, as Karin's contradictory, Juugo's mainly mum, and Sasuke might as well not even be there, but he still tries anyway.
"Shut up, will you?" Mitsuki barks, teeth chattering like an vintage child's toy. "No more talking." Karin rolls her eyes again and Suigetsu sucks his teeth, but they fall silent.
In the silence, Sasuke allows his mind to wander.
Again.
He did enough of that the night before, when sleep wouldn't come. He was haunted by visions. Visions of flashes and fire and rotting black death. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the faces of the dead with his name on their lips, forming it around streams of blood. But now it seemed like it wants to come in the hours of waking, and its tense grip on his spine has crimson crescent moons etching their way onto his palms.
This can't end well, he thinks. He'll probably end up in a hole, unmarked and unimportant, like he always thought he would. Through misplaced heroism or stupidity, he's not sure.
"Are you alright?" Juugo asks quietly beside him, notes of concern coloring his tone. Sasuke starts, almost forgetting that the others were there. Suigetsu's got an eyebrow raised and Karin looks worried, too. Ah. He must have been making a face without being aware of it, to have grabbed all of their attention. The two humans in the front pay them no mind.
Their legs move in sync, which isn't unusual for the lot of them, but for some reason it rattles Sasuke like it never has before. A bleak thought presents itself like a banner in the sky: If it came down to it, which weak bond would he chose to protect? This, or...that? That which might not exist in the same capacity anymore? That which moved upward and onward without him, like his absence meant nothing? That which clearly had more bravery that he ever would, to be able to fight for their freedom when there was almost no chance of survival, no hope, no future?
That which clearly still means something to him, even after so long. Even after the bitterness and loneliness and regret.
And now he's being sent to put them down.
"Sasuke?" Karin asks, placing a hand on his arm. It feels too familiar, like someone else, and he fights himself not to jerk out of her hold.
"I'm fine." He responds.
Suigetsu scoffs. "He's probably just getting a boner thinking about killing rebels." he mumbles nastily. "Baby's first, probably."
"Shut up, dick." Karin hisses.
Juugo looks like he wants to chime in, but turns instead and announces: "We're here." Effectively ending the conversation.
Sasuke's grateful for the distraction, as he had no answer for any of them. At least not one that wouldn't destroy their minor trust in each other in one fell swoop.
"Be quick about it, will you?" Genma mumbles. "The ship will take off in twenty minutes and you don't want to know what happens if we aren't on it."
After that vague and slightly threatening declaration, they enter the facility single file. Stark white walls and halls, like most things around here. Sparse and barren, even more so since it's early morning. The skeletal staff stares at them as the pass, eyes blank and unblinking. Their heads swivel in tandem to follow their movements.
"Ugh, I hate the Two's," Karin mumbles with a shudder. "They're so...lifeless."
"Yeah, you Sixes are just brimming with vitality." Mizuki replies snarkily. Sasuke feels it—a passing fancy that's gone as soon as it came—to take his fucking head off with a quick sweep of his hand. But he doesn't, and he won't, because that'd get him in even deeper shit then he's already in. If the twitch he sees pass though Juugo's big hand is any indication, he felt the same.
If only for a moment.
Sasuke bites down a smile and stares forward at the door furthest from the entrance. They march towards it, and his urge to smile dies quickly. Here, he thinks, is the end of the line, since there's no way his thoughts and affiliations won't be exposed under the watchful eyes of a Seer.
Well, it was...fun while it lasted?
Not in the slightest.
There are those like him that were blessed with extra...gifts. Gifted with foresight and blessed with forbearance. Their eyes are their power, instead of their fists, even though their fists still possess the strength of Atlas. They can see the innermost thoughts of the average soldier: where they will go, what they will see.
Who they will meet.
Most work with the police force in facilities like this one, though there are many who work on the side of road for an extra bit of coin. They report on anything a commanding officer could find important and grade it on a scale, based on color. A green checkmark keeps heads on shoulders, a black flag calls for degrees of...separation. Simple. Colors in between have meaning as well, but soldiers don't get much leeway when it comes to those.
Those with less clearance are required to visit a center every half year, to make sure they still fit into society and aren't planning anything that would be deemed unsatisfactory. Soldiers are required to visit every month. They see more death, more gore, more injustice, so it only makes sense. This will be Sasuke's second visit this month, just to make sure he's in the green before an intense mission like this. They can't have him going off the rails now, now could they? Ha. He imagines they'll have to go again once this is all over, to make sure their minds aren't scarred and fractured by whatever they've seen.
It doesn't matter, because he won't even get that far.
They stop in front of four pools of saline carved into the floor, each holding a different Seer. The half moon pod that the Seers are housed in shield their eyes from the harsh light, so he can't tell which one is inside at the moment. He'll have to duck down under it to get his reading, and it's his least favorite part. The close quarters feel claustrophobic on a good day, but with his thoughts as they are now the idea of it almost sends him to a panic. Sasuke doesn't know why, but he turns his head before getting in to share a look with Juugo. The other man is regarding him silently, still looking as if he has something to say.
"They'll find nothing. You'll be fine." He whispers, so softly Sasuke's almost not sure if he truly said anything. He hates that the words are almost enough to reassure him.
He swallows a hard lump in his throat and wades into the pool.
"You've already been here this month." Is the first thing out of Neji's mouth. Sasuke takes his hands and grips them tight, unmeasurable relief warming his body despite the cold water he's standing in. "Why are you here again so soon?" he asks lowly, eyes still closed and head still bowed.
"I...have to go...off-world. For an assignment." Sasuke mumbles. "They have to double-check that nothing's off with me." Lie for me!, Sasuke wants to scream. If I ever meant anything to you, lie for me and let me go!
But he doesn't.
And he won't.
No one knows about their connection, otherwise Sasuke would have had to go to a different center ages ago. Unless they do, and they like forcing Neji to hold Sasuke's fate in his hands constantly just for added cruelty to the both of them. That seems more likely. Separated by duty as they are, it would give someone a kick to see former friends dance an awkward dance of unfamiliarity to keep their heads and their posts.
—Former? The ache in his chests asks.
What about this feels 'former' to you?
Neji frowns, leaning in closer to him.
"Off-world?" He asks slowly. "Why?"
"Classified." Sasuke says, small smile gracing his face despite the fact that he feels like he's drowning. He's surprising he can even make a joke at a time like this, even one as bad as that one.
Neji smiles as well, finally opening his milky eyes that almost look...warm. "Right." He says with a slight chuckle. In the next instant, he feels the tell-tale tickle of the other man probing his brain. It doesn't hurt—it never does—but it is a bit uncomfortable, like the feeling of being watched and turning to see that no one's there.
It's obvious when he sees what's kept Sasuke up all night, and beyond, because his grip becomes bruising and the other man smothers a gasp. The water ripples slightly around them, and then it's done. Neji's eyes fly open immediately after, such a switch from their usual sessions where he takes his time coming out of the fog.
"Sasuke—" Neji starts, brow furrowing.
"Don't—" Sasuke hisses back.
"Readings!" Genma calls out, and Sasuke hears the cock of a gun as the guards get ready, just in case.
Neji stares at him, blinking rapidly. Sasuke wants to ask what he saw of his future, what he would do, if he would—but—
"Green!" Hinata calls softly in her sweet voice. Karin's reading. Clear, as usual.
"Green." Nagato's deep rumble reports for Juugo.
Good, Sasuke thinks. Good.
"...Bright Blue." Hanabi says after a moment for Suigetsu. Sasuke swallows at that, as does Neji, as they wait for Genma's ultimate verdict. He hears Suigetsu suck his teeth, but Sasuke knows he's feeling a little nervous at the reading without looking at him.
"Fair enough.' Genma says after a tense few moments, leading to a collective exhale. "Neji?" He asks, question hanging in the air.
Neji stares at him, eyes saying so much with one look. The other man leans forward under the cover of the pod, pressing their foreheads together for a quick moment before pulling back and releasing his hands. Sasuke instantly misses the contact, body suddenly locked up and freezing in the glacial water.
"Green." Neji says evenly, never breaking eye contact, and Sasuke instantly tastes the lie even though he knows the others never will.
"Like it was going to be anything else." Suigetsu mutters bitterly from the pod over. He hears Juugo quietly chuckle from his other side.
"Good." Genma says, holstering his gun as the other guards do the same. "Let's go, then."
"Say hello for me. Take care of yourself." Neji says before Sasuke moves out of the pod, pressing a wet hand to his cheek. He hates it. It feels final, like they'll never see each other again and that's the last thing he wants.
Even if he knows it's probably true.
Before he can choke on words unsaid, he steps forward so they're face to face again, causing Neji's eyebrows to raise in slight surprise. He doesn't care if the others hear, for once. A rarity.
"Thank you. I—thank you for being my friend." he whispers lamely. Shit! He's fumbling. Like always. He's never been good at this. "I—I love you." Even though he's always hated saying such things, he feels like he has to. If this is going to be the end, he has to.
Neji smothers a laugh quickly, but he can't be sure whether it was to avoid mocking his declaration or to avoid raising suspicion.
"Really?" He questions, smile bright and wonderful. "I'll never let you live that down."
Sasuke sighs, long suffering and pained, but squeezes his hand one last time and exits the pod.
He gets no strange looks for the others, or suspicious ones, so maybe they didn't hear. Who is he kidding, how could they not? It doesn't matter, he thinks, because even if they did he did something right for once and he's not going to let anyone ruin it.
Juugo holds a hand out to help him out of the pool, smiling ever so slightly as he looks down at him.
"See?" The big man says. "Green."
•••
"You know him, don't you?" Suigetsu accuses as they near the airship. "You know him and he lied for you. I know he did."
The others stare at him for a moment, before turning to look at Sasuke. Karin reacts first, hissing: "Lower your fucking voice before they hear you, idiot!" Juugo sends a near panicked glance at the handlers in front of them, hand forming a fist in case he has to take action.
Sasuke glances at him, debating on whether he should tell him the truth. There's no point, really, since he already knows. Despite the other man's tone, the question doesn't seem angry or overly hostile anyway. More curious than anything. The pale man barely trusts him as it is and since they're going to be going into the fire soon he shouldn't fracture it more if he doesn't have to.
"I do." He says simply. Karin looks surprised that he answered to easily and Juugo's gazing at him sidelong as he keeps watch on the humans up ahead, unsure. "Same training unit. Alpha Class too." He thinks for a moment, and amends. "But even before that, we grew up together." he flinches at his own wording—even as they simultaneously drudge up a ball of memories— because really, do beings like them really grow? That's what everyone has always said, and he does have memories of being young, surrounded like others like him, but he's always believed that they just came into existence one day as all the others before them.
Suigetsu looks at him incredulously. "Holy shit, you're like, fond of him? Wait, You have friends?!"
Sasuke almost laughs while the others mutter disapprovingly at Suigetsu's behavior. He can't blame the man because such a revelation is surprising. So instead he just nods and hopes he'll let the conversation drop. Maybe some slight insight into the mysterious fourth member of their ragtag, unofficial team will be distracting enough for them not to ask why Neji would need to lie for him in the first place.
Fortunately for him, it is, since Suigetsu seems to be having trouble processing this while Karin looks off into the distance, most likely imagining what Sasuke looked like as a child. Juugo says nothing, but that's to be expected. There's a look in his eyes that's worth exploring later, though, but Sasuke's not sure they'll ever have the time.
"Alright, listen up!" Genma shouts, bringing them to attention. "It'll take us about a week to reach Delta-1 and in that time, you'll all get a detailed blow by blow of everything there is to know about the rebels and the situation. But for today, I'm going to get some sleep. I know you freaks don't need much of it but you will behave on this voyage or I will throw you out into the vacuum of space. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yeah, yeah." Suigetsu says with an absent hand wave while Karin nods.
The ship isn't huge or fancy. Most vessel ships are plain and functional, focused more on utility than vanity. It's still a marvel to Sasuke, since he's never been on one. Oh, how he's dreamed. Dreamed of going off-world and into the beyond. Exploring the found worlds with bare feet and stumbling across new ones. He thought the time long past—childlike innocence, cold and forgotten—but as he runs his hands across the walls as he searches for a habitable room, traitorous hope swells in his chest despite the reason he's here. He's wistful for a moment, hearing the whispers of those closest to him as they stared at the stars and mapped out their dreams in the sky like constellations. He wishes for a moment that he could be the rebel like his friends—
—friends?
Is that what they are, still?
—Are, because if he was, he would have hijacked this airship himself, swinging back by to break out Neji and Hinata so they could have the adventure their youth had promised. Because those two would have loved this. Even though this is going to end in blood and loss, he knows, it would have been worth it to see their faces reflected in the moonlight, just once.
He settles onto a simple cot, already distrustful of the squeak and bounce as he sits. The room's bare, slightly bigger than a matchbox, but it's not like he needs that much space. He has no effects and his uniform will be provided for him, so this room will be used for sleep and privacy, which he's been craving since the beginning out this outing.
Yes, that's just what he needs.
To be alone with his thoughts.
He's vaguely aware that he's still wet from earlier and looks at his soaked pants with distaste. He digs around on the one shelf that sits above the bed, finding multiple sets of drab grey pajamas and peels his suit off, dropping it into a sad heap on the floor. A white paper flutters out of one of the pockets, somehow still dry.
—How?
He frowns at it, suspicious, and bends to grab it.
It's a note from Neji, penned in his neat, stylish handwriting. Sasuke wishes he was surprised that the other man managed to slip a note in his pocket — and keep it from being ruined and illegible by the time he found it—without him noticing, but he's not.
Careful, Soldier. It reads. Dark Red.
Fuck.
Dream of rust and northern lights.
Sasuke frowns. Of course the other man would be vague about what he saw because it's always be near impossible to get a straight answer of it him. But on the other hand, it's probably a helpful hint but he can't put his finger on it right now.
He sits back down on the bed, folding up the note and placing it under his pillow, jumping slightly as he feels the ship begin to take off.
He stares out of his tiny window, watching the swaying streetlights and talking neon signs slowly fade from view. He lays back on the bed, folding his arms over his chest. He stares at the ceiling until his eyes are too heavy to open anymore.
Dark Red, he thinks before he falls, Dark fucking Red.
This really won't end well, will it?